


baby's first serial killer

by stapcs



Series: Christine Booth [2]
Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:41:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24530227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stapcs/pseuds/stapcs
Summary: You know they exist. You've heard the stories, you've read the files, but nothing prepares you for the first time you come face to face with one.
Series: Christine Booth [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1761556
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: per usual, i don't own bones. i also would like to apologize for the fact that i just can't seem to get things moving in what was supposed to be my introduction story to this universe i've created for the older versions of these characters! for some reason i'm stuck there but new ideas just keep pouring out! hope you enjoy! and if you do leave a review perhaps? xx

Lupo Verde was a chic, quiet, little Italian restaurant tucked away in a corner of DC. It was Friday night which meant it was dimly lit, candles providing intimate lighting for couples on first dates, second dates, anniversary celebrations; any and every sort of celebration you could think of and off to the side by one of the windows sat Christine Booth.

"I'm really glad we could do this." The man across from her murmured with a smile, tilting his wine to clink his glass against hers. "Me too," she hums, offering a smile. "and I am so sorry it took us so long to get here." She laughed quietly. "It wasn't personal, I promise. I just - don't exactly work a normal nine to five it's kinda hard to turn it off." Christine scrunched her nose while Frank shook his head, waving his hands dismissively. "No, no. No apologies. I _get it_. FBI, right?" She nods, sipping her wine. "Yep, that's me. A G- _wo_ man if you will." She laughs, "You're a - teaching assistant if I remember correctly."

"For now," he nods with a laugh of his own this time. "just until I finish my doctorate and can get a teaching job." Christine nodded along, smiling gently. Inside, she could tell there probably wouldn't be a second date. Frank was nice and had excellent taste in restaurants, though Italian cuisine was highlighted on her dating profile, so, who really knows and Christine had just felt so bad about having to reschedule she owed him one night. "So," he begins, swirling the red liquid around in his glass. "my want to be a professor stems from my love of learning, but what persuaded you to work for our government?" "Oh," this was the part of dating she hated, the questions. Where did you grow up? Here. DC, born and raised. Do you have any siblings? Yes, two. An older and a younger brother. "My dad, actually. He's an agent too. I guess I wanted to be just like him." She shrugs.

"Oh, wow, your dad.. he's _still_ active now?" Was his next question which prompted a teasing brow raise from Christine who chuckled under her breath. "Yes, he is. He'll probably be a field agent until they _force_ him to retire, he wouldn't survive chained to a desk. _Especially_ if my mom is still out in the field." Frank's eyes widen slightly. "Your mom's FBI, too?" "Oh, God no." Christine threw her head back slightly with a laugh. "She's… a scientist - a forensic anthropologist with the Jeffersonian Institution. She helps my dad solve murders. It's how they met." "Wow," he breathes, laughing under his breath, "so, you're like… a crime fighting family." "Something like that." She says with a wink, leaning forward to grab her glass. Maybe there'd be a second date after all she thought, until.. "Wait," Frank leaned closer, raising a brow. "the Jeffersonian? Would your mother… maybe know Temperance Brennan? The mystery writer?" This is where her dates normally go wrong. They usually happen one of two ways: one) people find out like how Frank was about to find out or two) they google the hell out of her pre-date and already know who her parents are when they meet, either way, it usually ends in them asking for an autograph of some kind.

There was an involuntary sharp inhale at that and Christine straightened her posture before she spoke. "Um, actually, _Dr._ Temperance Brennan is my mother." She answers quietly, mentally preparing herself for the night to go downhill from here. "Really?" He gasps. "You know, I have one of her books in my car do you think you could -" The look on Chrstine's face must've given away what she was thinking because it was then that Frank busted into a fit of laughter, reaching out to touch her arm. " - i'm kidding! I mean, I do own the series, but I don't have it with me." She relaxed a little at that, closing her eyes briefly with a small laugh. "You really had me going. I was about to get up and walk out before our main course." "I couldn't help it, sorry." He laughs. She was just about to applaud him on both his acting skills and his sense of humor when something flew down past the window beside them. Something _eerily_ body shaped. "You - saw that too right?" She glanced out the glass and then back at her date who simply nodded. "It - it looked like a person." "Yeah," she sighed, already standing up, "that's what I was afraid of."

Even after telling him _multiple_ times he could and should stay at their table, Frank was hot on Christine's heels as she made her way out of the restaurant and towards the crowd. Pulling her badge from her dress, she flashed it. "FBI. Everybody stand back, please." Once they complied, she stepped closer, only to be stopped by Frank's hand on her arm. "Hey, are you sure you should -" She reached out to touch his hand, gently removing it. "I'm FBI and you just found out who my parents are. Are you really questioning if I know my way around a crime scene?" She offers him a small smile just to reassure she wasn't trying to come off as rude and steps up to the body. It was definitely one that was right up the team's alley - there wasn't much left of her. Though she was mostly bones at this point, she was still dressed and the half of her face that was left had been done up. Together, it seemed as if whoever did this wanted her to resemble a porcelain doll and the thought (or maybe the chill in the air) sent a shiver down her spine. She noticed the body seemed to have some sort of paper safety pinned to the top of the dress. Before she reaches out, she realizes the gloves she keeps on her are in her purse in the restaurant. Thankfully, when Frank followed her he had his cloth napkin in his hand and she took that to be able to get it off. What was written shook her to her core.

Turning to look up at him, she took a deep breath. "Frank. I need you to go back inside and grab my coat and purse so I call my parents." When he nodded and left, she looked back down at the paper just to make sure she had read it correctly. There, in scribbled red handwriting, was a single sentence: _Christine, be a doll and get this to mom and dad._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: still don't own bones. creepy, ritualistic stuff like the way the body was presented usually means serial killer to these guys which is why father and daughter seem to be having the same gut feeling, hope y'all enjoy! xx

"Well, well, well, if I knew you looked this good at all your crime scenes I'd show up more often." Christine turned around to see her Aunt Angela and the rest of the crew heading her way. With a scoff and playful roll of eyes, she met them halfway. "Ha. Hardly. I just.." She glanced behind them at her father. "Was on a date when it - _she_ fell from the sky." "A date, huh?" Angela began, unloading her camera so she could snap some pictures. "Is he still here?" Christine laughed this time, shaking her head. "Man, you are on a roll tonight with the jokes, Aunt Ange. Of course not. I sent him home after I called you guys." "Spoil sport." She sighs, smiling behind the camera. "No, no. I just already had to bail early because of murder, I wasn't going to subject him to meeting my entire family all in the same night."

"Alright, Bones, what've we got?" She heard her father ask and excused herself to move next to him, watching her mother and her team work. "Pelvis indicates female. Rounded orbital sockets suggest caucasian." "Age, what about age? Anyone got that?" He was steadily writing notes on his index cards. "Oh. Early twenties. No older than twenty-five." "Well, we know she was blonde," Hodgins added, bending to pick particulates from her hair. A weird pit begins to build in Christine's stomach. Something about this case just didn't sit right with her. "It's like totally _freaky_ , right?" She asks suddenly. "The clothes and the makeup. She looks like a doll." Brennan looked from the remains to her daughter, brows furrowed almost like her maternal senses started ringing. "Chris, are you okay? You look like you're in distress."

This prompted the rest of the team, including her father and Uncle Aubrey, to glance her way. Christine set her jaw, she was hoping to hold off on the piece of evidence she'd pocketed until later. The moment they find out, they would go into overprotective mode and while, yes, it freaked her out it wasn't like she couldn't protect herself - she was a cop too after all. "Christine." She knew that voice, though it was rarely used with her, she recognized it as her father's serious voice. "There was a note." She said simply. "A note." he repeated, arching a brow expectantly. "Yeah, on the body." She nods towards the remains. "Did it happen to say ' _hi my name is blank and this is what happened to me_ '?" Cam jokes, trying to lighten the now heavy mood.

"I wish. It was written to me specifically." She swallowed thickly, reaching for a pair of gloves so she could pull it back out. "What do you mean by _you_ , specifically?" Brennan asks, now standing to move closer to her family. She didn't answer right away, simply unfolded the note and cleared her throat before reading it again, aloud this time. "Christine, be a doll and get this to mom and dad." Despite herself, her voice wavers just a bit and she hands it over to Aubrey. "Woah," Hodgins murmured. "Whoever did this knows who I am, who you guys are. They knew I'd be here." Booth tried to keep his anger intact as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We're gonna get this son-a-bitch, we always do." He promised, complete with a kiss to her temple. "Your father's right." Her mother soothed, giving her a kiss on the opposite temple before getting back to work. "I just have a feeling a big storm is coming." Christine murmured.

Once they left the scene, Christine decided to forgo heading to the FBI building to stop by her apartment, with Hank's supervision of course, Dad's orders. "So, you think this guy is after you?" She rolled her eyes as the question reached her, zipping her duffel bag, she slipped it on her shoulder and stepped into her running shoes. "You know it's way too early to make those kinds of assumptions, Mr. Booth." She teases. "Aren't you one of Temperance Brennan's students? Shouldn't you know that?" He rolled his eyes, taking his sister's bag and tossing it over his own shoulder before following her out. "You want to go straight to the house or..?" "The lab, please." She sighs, climbing into the car with him. "I want to see what they've got so far. I'm still an agent on this case, after all." He simply nods at that and heads towards the Jeffersonian.

"You guys got anything yet? Cause of death? Identity?" Hank swiped his card as his sister ascended the platform, following up after her to get to work. "Well good evening to you too, Agent Booth." Michael teases, getting the platform ready. "Right. Sorry. Forgot you weren't at the scene so I didn't see you half an hour ago." She winced slightly. "I was just kidding. I know you're probably shaken up. Mom and Aubrey are working on a facial reconstruction and examining your note if you want to go check in with them." "Go on, Chrissy, we'll keep you updated." Hank promised. She nods, heading for the steps. Before she makes the way down them, she turns to look at her brother, calling out softly, "Marco." "Polo." He answers, smiling over at her.

Satisfied with his answer, she smiles to herself, making her way to her aunt's office. "Hey, Baby Booth, you made it in." Aubrey offered the girl a smile. "I did, indeed. You finish your reconstruction?" She asked Angela, moving to take a seat on the couch. "Yeah, because we had an intact skull and well… half her face it wasn't too hard. We're about to run it through missing persons now." Christine nodded, picking up the note that had been left for her. "Hey, hey, we got a match. Michelle Gavin. Twenty-four." Angela glanced back at her. "Reported missing two weeks ago by her parents."

"I'll let Mom and Dad know." She murmured, heading for the door. Aubrey and Angela shared a look. "You think she's alright?" He asked, watching her head to her mother's office. "No," Angela shook her head. "but she will be."

"Aunt Ange got a hit on our vic." She announced as she entered. Her mother and father were pouring over preliminary findings, crime scene photos, and a photocopy of the note that had been left. Taking a seat at Brennan's desk, she called up Angela's reconstruction and the missing person's report. "Her name is Michelle Gavin. She was twenty-four and a medical student at Georgetown. Her parents reported her missing two weeks ago." She leaned back in her mother's chair. "I want to go with you guys to tell her parents."

"Of course, you're still an active agent on this case." Brennan nods, looking to her husband. "Right, Booth?" He nods. "Right. Of course you can come. We'll go first thing in the morning." He stretched, fighting a yawn. "As for right now.. I say we leave cleaning the bones to our squintern of the week and since there's nothing you can really do until then anyways, Bones, we grab a late takeout dinner and head home." "Thai?" Christine asked, smiling gently. "Whatever you want, princess." Booth promised with a smile. "Mom and I will pick it up. You and your brother head on to the house, we'll meet you there." She nods, moving to collect her brother.

The atmosphere in the car between husband and wife was tense. Not because of anything between the two, but because this was beginning to feel like the start to a very tiring case. "I know what you're thinking." It was Brennan who finally broke the silence, her gaze on her husband's profile. "This could be another serial killer." The tightening of his hand on the steering wheel proved her correct and she knew it also had to do with their daughter. While she hadn't exactly been threatened (yet at least), she had been targeted by this killer. "Yeah," he replies softly. "and if this girl is his first victim we're gonna make sure it's his last." "I agree." She murmurs, her gaze returning to the passing scenery as they made their way home to their children.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: guess what! i still don't own bones! lol anyways, this story is forming quite nicely in my head and as long as it continues to do so i should get out steady updates sooo fingers crossed! i'm super excited that you guys are enjoying it! xx

The next morning, the Booth family shared a breakfast together and for a moment Christine felt like a child again. Not in the bad, they don't think I can handle taking care of myself way, but rather in the for a moment I can pretend everything is okay way. The smell of pancakes is what woke her, the sounds of the jukebox softly playing mixed with the noise of her parents bustling around in the kitchen were like safety blankets. Her brother was the only Booth kid who still lived at home, eighteen and fresh out of high school, he planned to stay while he was in college just like Parker had. For him this was a normal day, for Christine, it was like stepping into a time machine.

Sitting up, she took in her surroundings before getting dressed. Her childhood room was the way she had left it. The posters were still hung, her awards still sat on her shelves. Pictures still littered her desk and that is where her attention was drawn. Picking one up, she ran her fingers along the frame; inside was a photo from one of the Jeffersonian summer picnics. She, Parker, Hank, Mikey, and Kat along with Michelle and her brothers were all smiles as they held up the trophy from the kids vs parents games. If you ask her dad, he swears they let them win but she knows he's just upset a bunch of kids beat them at tug of war. Her gaze lingers on others: one of her and her grandpa, several of the siblings, a few of her and her parents and, then, a photostrip caught her eye. It was tucked behind some other things, sticking out just enough for her to find it.

It was from the movie theater. She can't remember the title but she knew they had just seen whatever horror movie had just come out, it was their thing. Her and Michael Vincent's. The last photo was bent, folded where you couldn't see it at first glance. Gently, she uncurled it, revealing the picture of the two teens sharing a kiss in the last frame. They were supposed to be some big love story, or that's what her aunt always said anyways, but some things just didn't work out. She's shaken from her thoughts at the sound of her mother's voice. "Breakfast is ready. You need to eat so we can head to the Gavin's." She stepped further into the room, "Honey? You okay?" Christine finally nods. "Yeah, yeah." She folded the picture and put the strip away again. "I'm coming." She smiles.

After breakfast, the three of them piled into Booth SUV and headed for the victim's parents while Hank headed for the lab. Her father allowed her to take the lead which meant she headed towards the house with her parents in tow. After knocking a couple times, she steps back and waits. "Oh, hello." The woman on the other side spoke gently, glancing back at her husband who joined her. "Can we help you?" Christine flashed her badge before introducing them. "Hi, I'm special agent Christine Booth with the FBI and these are my associates, special agent Seeley Booth and Dr. Temperance Brennan of the Jeffersonian Institution. May we come in?"

They follow the couple into their home. They took a seat on the couch while Brennan sat on the arm of the chair Booth had taken residence in and Christine sat beside them in the opposite one. "Is this about our daughter?" Mr. Gavin asked, clearing his throat. "Unfortunately, yes," she begins slowly, nodding. "We found her last night outside of Lupo Verde." A sob broke through the girl's mother and it took all she had to keep her composure. These talks never got easier. "I knew she was gone. Chele wouldn't just disappear. I knew it would come to this." Brennan couldn't help but chime in at that, raising a brow. "You knew?" Mrs. Gavin straightened up. "Do you have children, Dr. Brennan?" Brennan's gaze drifted to Christine who kept hers on the floor for the moment. "I thought so," she continued, "I am her _mother_ , Dr. Brennan. She grew inside me, I knew the second she left this Earth and as a mother yourself I _know_ you cannot look me in the eye and tell me if that - if your little girl sitting in the chair beside you went missing you wouldn't be able to feel if she was alive or not."

She realizes she struck a nerve and she also realizes Mrs. Gavin was right. There were still times she compartmentalized and this case was definitely going to be one of those times. Someone in this family had to separate Christine from this victim and it was obvious neither her husband or sons would be able to. "You're right." She nods. "I apologize and I assure you my team is going to do everything they can to make sure we find out what happened to Michelle and who did it." She promises. "Dr. - my mother is right. We're doing everything in our power and that starts with asking you if you knew of anyone who would want to hurt your daughter?" She leaned closer to the couple. "Ah.. no, no." Mr. Gavin shook his head, wrapping his arm around his wife. "Michelle was liked by everyone. She was a good girl." "Any.. boyfriends? Girlfriends, that might be trouble?" Booth asks. "Not at the moment, no." The girl's father replied. "Well, there was that one boy." She murmurs to her husband before looking towards the others. "About a month ago, I talked to Michelle and she was telling me about this boy she had been seeing. Ah.. Dillon - something. I can't remember if she told me his last name or not but it was only a couple of weeks after that that she told me they weren't talking anymore. Something about a family emergency that caused him to leave the school."

Christine nodded at that and pulled out two cards, one of hers and one of her father's. "Thank you for letting us come in, we're sorry for your loss." She held them out. "If you can think of anything else that might help us, give us a call. We'll be sure to keep you updated." She nodded, sniffling as she took the cards. "Thank you." With that, the family headed back out to the car. "Alright." Her father began, wringing his hands as they walk. "We'll drop mom off at the lab and then go check out the school? See if we can't pick up on anything in Michelle's dorm." Christine nodded, reaching for her phone that was ringing before replying. "Sounds like a plan. Booth." She murmurs, bringing it to her ear. "Oh, Frank, hi." She stopped just short of the truck, her parents exchanging a look before climbing in to let her finish. "No, no, it's fine. I'm fine. Yeah, I'm actually working right now but just know I'm okay. Last night was honestly kind of normal for me, believe it or not." She laughed under her breath. "Of course, of course. Thank you for checking in. Um, maybe when all this is over we can try that date again? Sounds good, bye." She slipped her phone back in her pocket and climbed into the car.

"Change of plans, Chris." Booth said as he flipped on the siren and pulled out. "What? Why?" She asks, holding onto his seat as she tried to buckle. "They found another body." Was her mother's reply. "You think it's the same person?" She asked, leaning forward. "God, I hope not." Booth muttered. "Because if it is, he escalated fast."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: just a reminder.. i don't own bones. this chapter... kind of got away from me. I was trying to fit a lot in to really get the story going and i hope it all makes sense. thanks so much for your kind words guys! xx

As they made their way into the abandoned building, that bad feeling from the night before crept its way back into her stomach. The closer she got, the worse it got. "Oh, God, it's the same as last night isn't it?" Cam looked up towards her. "Looks that way," she sighs. "Except," Michael interrupted, "the first victim couldn't have been dead longer than six days. According to insect activity this one's been here at least a month and a half." Booth raised a brow at that, looking up from his notes. "So, this could be the first victim?" Brennan didn't even glance his way as she started talking. "It's - possible. This one is the same. Female, early twenties, blonde." She sighed softly.

"He leave anything for me this time?" Christine asks, her voice was dripping with sarcasm while her body language spoke volumes on how nervous she actually was. "No, there was nothing on the clothes that we could see." Cam shook her head before motioning. "But Hodgins has them over there if you want to give them a second look." She nodded and headed over. "Oh, hey," Hodgins looked up briefly, offering her a smile. "No creepy letter this time. Which is probably good." She didn't say anything, just stepped closer to look at the chest of the dress, her brows knitting together. "Chris? Did you hear me?" He paused what he was doing, looking towards the girl. "I - yeah. Sorry." He raises a brow. "What? What do you see that I don't?" She reaches for a pair of gloves and puts them on.

At this point, Booth was tuned in and he moved over to them. "What is it, Chris?" He asks, peering over her shoulder. "You see this red stitching? It's a monogram. CAB." She ran her finger over it gently. "Yeah, it's in my preliminary findings. It's probably her initials, might help Angie with the ID." Christine shook her head. "I don't think so." She said softly. "It's initials, but I don't think they're hers." Okay, now both of the men beside her were confused. "Then who's are they?" She looked up at her father with wide eyes. "I think they're mine." She said softly.

"There's just no rational way to know if either of you were right, yet!" Brennan all but shouted. "We _just_ got this body. We don't even know her name yet! Dr. Hodgins could've very well been right!" The team was now at the lab, the squints doing what they do and beginning to gather information from their latest victim along with continuing to look over the one from last night while the three agents worked on setting up a board with information they already had on Michelle and what they were beginning to gather on this second victim. "You're right!" Christine offered. "But _you_ taught me we have to look at everything we have." She pointed a finger at her mother before grabbing a marker and moving towards the white board. "So, let's look at what we have. Victim number one: Michelle Gavin." She started writing. "Twenty-four. Medical student. Was hand delivered to me at the restaurant _I_ was at with a note specifically written to _me_." She hung the photocopy of it next to Michelle's photo. "Next, victim number two: name? Unknown at this moment. Age? I'm pretty sure it's safe to say twenty-four everything else seems to line up with the other's. No note, _but_ ," she picked up a photo of the dress, hanging it up. "the dress she was left in had a hand stitched monogram on it, CAB." She wrote the letters and underlined them. "CAB, mom." She wrote them again. "Christine Angela Booth. CAB."

"You are jumping to conclusions, Christine!" She threw her hands up in frustration. " _You_ are refusing to see what's right in front of you, mother!" She shouted back. "Trust me, I am _well_ aware of what the evidence is pointing to, but you cannot let yourself get emotional over two things that could be coincidences!" Christine let out a frustrated noise. Everyone on the platform went silent, no one knowing what to do. Finally, Booth steps up to touch his wife's shoulder. "You two yelling at each other isn't going to help us solve anything. We've got two girls here who need our help and as much as you're gonna hate to admit it, Bones, your emotions are running just as high." He was met with a scowl from her and he squeezed her shoulder in apology. "Look, your mother's right we don't know for sure yet, but, we'll stay on alert just in case this sicko is after you. The quicker we start pulling together answers the quicker we can put whoever this is away." Christine grit her teeth, arms folded across her chest. "I am not being emotional or irrational or crazy. I just - don't have a good feeling about this, okay?" Michael stepped forward. "Stapes, your dad is right. You just need to take a breather -" She shook her head, her arm coming out to stop him. "Don't. Don't call me Stapes." She murmured, heading for the steps.

Her parents started to follow after her and Hank stepped up to stop them, snapping his gloves off. "No. You guys keep working. I'll talk to her." He followed her down to Limbo, she was leaning against a set of the drawers, staring at the ones in front of her. "Marco." He called, slowing his steps as he comes down the stairs. She can't help the faint smile that crosses her lips and she looks towards him. "Polo." She replies, moving to wrap her arms around her little big brother's middle. "I'm not crazy am I, Hank the Tank?" She asks softly, looking up at him. "No, Chrissy, of course not." He shook his head. "Well, maybe a little," he says with a quiet laugh. "but you can blame that on your raising." She elbowed him playfully. "That's not funny." She laughs. "You do remember last night when you told me it was too early to make assumptions, right?" She sighed, rubbing her hands over her face. "Yeah. Yeah, I know. I just.. at the risk of sounding like dad, I just have a gut feeling things are going to get ugly during this." He watched her a moment, leaning against the railing. "What are you gonna do? You and mom can't keep having screaming matches on the forensic platform."

She sighed. She hated when he was right. She'd make sure to apologize to her mother before she left. "You," she begins, pushing off the wall. "are going to take me to my apartment so I can get my car. Then, I'll head to my office. I heard Uncle Aubrey's bringing Michelle's roommate in, I'd like to sit in on that." Hank nodded, motioning for her to head on back up the stairs, following behind her. She cleared her throat gently as she climbed the platform again. "I'm sorry for yelling. I guess my nerves are just a little shot." Brennan looked up, swallowing a lump in her throat. "I apologize as well, Christine. I should've kept my emotions in check." "Right. Guess we've just got that in common." She said softly, pressing a kiss to her mother's cheek. "Did Daddy and Uncle Aubrey leave?" At her nod, Chris continued. "Okay, well, Hank's going to run me to my car and I'm going to head to the Hoover myself. I'll leave the scientist stuff to you actual scientists. I'm just halfway one." She teases, grabbing her coat. "Oh, and Mikey?" She turned to look at him, waiting for him to look up before speaking again. "I'm sorry I snapped at you. You just - caught me off guard with that old nickname." She waits for his nod before she follows her brother out to the parking garage.

"I just can't believe Michelle is gone." The girl across from them sniffed and Aubrey nudged a box of tissues closer to her. "How long was Michelle missing before she was reported?" Christine asks. "Almost a week. I - I was the one who told her parents. I thought she had just gone to see that guy she was seeing, or was talking to rather, they only went on a couple dates before he had to leave school." She grabbed a tissue and wiped her eyes. "Her mother had mentioned someone by the name of Dillion? Does that ring any bells? We were hoping maybe you could supply us with a last name." Aubrey cleared his throat, glancing over at Christine and then back to Ashley. "Oh. Uh, yeah." She sniffles, nodding. "Dillion - Dillion Smith. He was nice." She laughed gently. "I thought it was a little weird he didn't have any social media but he was nice so I let it slide. Oh." She reached for her bag. "I brought some of Michelle's things. Some notebooks, her laptop. Those are the kinds of things you guys look through, right?" She pulled them out, pushing them towards the agents. "Yeah," Christine nodded. "This is great, thank you." Aubrey cleared his throat and stood. "Well, Miss Lawrence, I think that's all we need for now. We'll be in touch if we have any more questions." She nods, letting Aubrey walk her to the elevators.

Christine met him halfway, already thumbing through a notebook. "I still think we should still head to the campus and see if we can pick anything up." She nods, looking up at him. "You and Dad go ahead. I want to look through her notes and I'll get her laptop over to Ange." He nods. "Sounds good. Call us if you need anything." "Will do," she hums, heading for her office.

A storm had rolled into DC seemingly out of nowhere, leaving her office somewhat dark as she read over Michelle's things. Most of it just seemed to be class notes and rotation schedules, but every few pages or so she seemed to use it as a makeshift journal. She sounded… scared. She talks about feeling like she was being watched. On campus, at work, it got so bad she stopped keeping track on her laptop. She was worried someone was watching her through it and would find out she was beginning to realize someone was after her. She was so engrossed in what she was doing; she didn't hear the knock on her door, only noticing the person when she caught sight of them in her peripheral vision. Gasping, she jumped slightly. "Frank. Oh my god, sorry, I - didn't hear you knock." He offered an apologetic smile. "I didn't mean to scare you." She sat back, shaking her head. "Not your fault. I was just really focused." She laughs gently. "How did you know where to find me?" "Oh," he pulls a hand from behind his back, reaching up to rub his neck. "I asked the lady at the front. I know you said you were okay over the phone but I just wanted to see for myself." Christine felt a tug in her chest, smiling slightly. "You really didn't have to, especially now that all this is going on." She motioned to the rain. "Well, I wanted to bring you these." He pulled the vase of daisies from behind his back. "Daisies." She said softly, standing. "My favorite. How'd you know?" She smiled gently, taking the flowers from him to sit them on her desk. "Your dating profile." He murmurs. "Right, right." She shook her head. "Of course. Thank you. They're beautiful."

"Woah, am I interrupting something?" She looked past Frank to see Kat standing in her doorway. "Kat," she breathes. "No, no, come in." She moves around her desk. "Kat Hodgins, Frank Miller." She introduces them. "Ohhh." Kat smirked, offering the other a hand. "Nice to meet you." He laughs gently, shaking her hand. "You too." He nods. After, Kat holds up a file. "I have a reason for being here." Frank reaches out to touch the flowers before stepping back. "That's my cue to get out of here. I'll talk to you later, Christine." She nods, walking him to the door. "Of course. Thanks again for the flowers. And for checking in on me." She shut the door behind him, turning to find Kat leaning against her desk, smirking at her. Christine fights a grin, shaking her head as she crosses the room. "You.. are as bad as your mother, Katherine Temperance." She teases, sitting behind her desk again. "You say that like it's a bad thing, Christine Angela." She hums, sifting across from her. "But let's be honest, my mother is the reason your mother didn't work herself to death and I will be the reason you don't. I may be younger than you but trust me, you need me." She smiles smugly to herself. "Frank. Was that tall, dark, and dreary? The guy you said was dry and boring over texts?" Christine sighs, leaning back in her chair. "Maybe he's just a bad texter." She shrugged. "Because the date was actually going pretty well before you know, bodies started hitting the floor."

Kat snorted, leaning on her arm. "And," she continues, "he still seems to want to see me after all that. He might have a shot, Kat and that's a big step coming from me, I haven't been in a real relationship since - " "Since you and my brother were boinking." She interrupted and Christine looked at her pointedly. "First of all, don't ever refer to it like that ever again and second, we weren't just - _boinking_ \- we were in a relationship for _three_ years." She didn't want to talk about this anymore. "Didn't you say you had a reason for coming by?" She looked back down at her notes, picking her pen up. "Right," she cleared her throat, holding the file out. "Mom got a hit on the second victim. Allison Taylor. Twenty-four. Grad student at Howard University." She nods, reaching for a file and her laptop. "Will you give this to Aunt Ange when you go back? It's Michelle Gavin's laptop." She nodded and took them from her. "Will do. See you later, Chris." She calls before heading for the door.

Unbeknownst to Kat, Frank watched from a corner as she boarded the elevator. Pulling one earbud from his ear, he looked down at the photo he swiped from Christine's office. He could place Kat and Christine obviously, and the two boys on her left he recognized as her brothers from her profile. The boy on her right must've been the brother Kat was referring to. It seemed he might have a problem that extended outside of _just_ Christine Booth. That was okay though. He'd figure out who this brother was and he'd adjust his plan.

Later that night, there was another knock on her door. One she heard this time; looking up from what had become a mountain of notes and paperwork, she found her father. "Cam just called. She needs us at the lab. Sounds important. Figured we could regroup there and call it a night?" He asks, tapping on the frame gently. "Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good." She nods, compiling her things before standing. She was just about to follow him out when she remembered the flowers on her desk. "Wait." She murmurs, turning to grab them, pausing again before turning the lights off. "What?" Her dad asked. "Nothing," she shook her head. "I just thought I had a photo sitting there. Guess I was wrong." She shrugged, following him out. "So, who gave you those?" Booth asks, trying to seem nonchalant as they met Aubrey at the elevators. "Oh, uh, Frank. The guy I've been talking to. The guy I was with when we found Michelle.." she explained, blushing slightly. "You'd like him. He's smart. Nice." "And murder obviously doesn't scare him off." Aubrey joked which earned a glare from both Booths next to him as the elevator dinged and opened. "Look at that. Saved by the bell. Shall we?" He ushered them on.

Back at the lab, everyone was gathered in Angela's office as they went over what she found on the victim's laptop. "Most of it was school work. Some pictures. Then, I found where she was keeping a journal.." She pressed a couple of buttons, pulling it up. "She thought she was being watched." Christine spoke up, earning looks from the group. "Yeah," Angela nods, before looking back at her. "Wait. How did you know? She only mentioned it a couple times and I haven't gotten there yet." She reaches for the notebooks. "She stopped journaling on her laptop in case someone was hacking in." She flipped a few pages. "It happened again tonight," she began, reading, "I felt someone watching me in the locker room. With my scrub top halfway over my head, I whipped around to find the blinds closed and the feeling gone. I pushed it aside until I was in the parking lot and it crept back. Ducking my head, I fast walked to my car and locked myself in. I took a moment to collect myself and headed back to campus, everything was fine now." She closed the book. "That was the last entry. She went missing the next afternoon." "What about cause of death? Do we know that yet? For either of them?" Booth asked, spinning his lighter. "That's why I called you guys." Cam said. "It has come to our attention that both victims were tortured," Brennan said, having Angela call up x-rays. "He kidnapped them, tortured them to no end and left them there to die before dressing them and leaving them for us to find." She continued. "Whoever did this is one sick individual," Hank added, "he went ham on these girls." Christine flinched slightly, clearing her throat. "Have we found any overlap? Anything that connects them besides twenty-four and blonde?" "None." Cam shook her head sadly. "Michelle was a med student, Allison was a business major." Christine pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing. "Aunt Ange, What about Dillion Smith? Anything on him?" "Sorry, sweetie." She shook her head. "I know you said he wasn't on social media, but, it's like he never even existed. I found absolutely nothing." "Dillion and Michelle broke things off because he had to go back home, right?" Aubrey asked, opening his file. "Right. What about it?" She looked over. "Allison's sister said the same thing about her boyfriend. A guy by the name of.. Adam Lowell. Him and her sister dated on and off for a couple months and then he was needed back home, said he had an account with the school, which is how they met, but other than that nothing."

"And I'm guessing that when we start looking into him it'll be like he never existed either." Booth added. "So.. what? This guy is meeting college girls, dating them for a little bit, faking an emergency and then kidnapping and killing them for what? Sport?" Hodgins asked, rolling closer to the group. "That's what we have to figure out." Christine sighed, pulling her phone out as it chimed. "There's gotta be some kind of overlap that we're… overlooking.." She murmured, furrowing her brows. "What?" Michael asked, stepping forward. "Chrissy what is it?" She shook her head. "It's a geographical location," She murmured. "Well? Who's it from?" Aubrey asks as Angela started inputting it on the angelatron. "I don't know it's a blocked number, hang on, I just got another one. It's an MP3 file." She turned her volume up and took a deep breath before hitting play. Suddenly music filled the room, the kind you'd hear in an old music box before a pair of childlike voices began to speak. _"Christine…"_ they called, _"What's taking you so long? Don't you want to play with us?"_


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: still don't own bones! hi guys this chapter took me a little longer for some reason but here we are! things are about to get good in my opinion. i've also been thinking about the coma dream episode a lot lately and writing a story along those lines, would love to hear your thoughts on that?! xx

It's been almost two weeks. Two weeks since that first body was plopped in front of them. Two weeks since their body count doubled. Two weeks since the start of creepy, cryptic, messages and two weeks since Christine has slept right. It started with that same feeling that Michelle, and later they found out Allison too, had been writing about. She found herself watching over her shoulder when she left work or the lab and once she could swear she heard someone breathing off to the side and then, the nightmares started. It was the same dream over and over: she'd wake up, start the coffee pot, and go to the door for the paper but every time it was never the paper she found it was always some new message from that psycho until last night. Last night she woke up suddenly. She sat up, gasping for breath and drenched in sweat after her dreams had taken a turn and left her tied to a chair, some distorted voice talking to her from the shadows of whatever basement was being used as a makeshift torture scene.

Sleep was no longer an option after that, pulling her cardigan around herself, she checks in on both her brother and parents before padding to the kitchen. Sitting at the island with a cup of coffee, she started working. After a hour or so of working, her phone rang. Looking at the ID, she smiled to herself before raising it to her. "Hey, you." She murmurs, heading for the patio so she wouldn't wake the others. "What are you doing up so early?" She hums. "I don't know. Just had you on my mind, I guess." Came Frank's reply. She snorts softly, but smiles nonetheless. "Smooth." She teases. "Well, since we're both up.. you think we could grab breakfast? If you're not already deep in work." She thinks for a moment, gnawing on her lip. She shouldn't leave while everyone's sleeping, but then again she hasn't technically been outright threatened and she could very well take care of herself. "You know what, yes, let's go. I know the perfect place. I'll text you the location." With that, she headed back into the house to put some real clothes on.

Frank was already waiting on her when she arrived at the diner and she offered him a small smile as she joined him. "You know," he began, standing to give her a quick hug. "I've seen you in your nicest dress and your work clothes, but I think this look is my favorite." He motioned to her jeans and sweatshirt. She laughed under her breath, nudging him before sitting. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Professor Miller." She teases. He grins in return at her before his eyes fall to the menu. "So, I know you can't go into detail.. but how's work?" She looks up at him briefly. "Frustrating. Serial killers don't usually lead us to their bodies unless they want to be caught but this guy has given us four bodies and absolutely no way to connect them. It's like - like he wants to overwhelm us to keep us distracted." She sighs. His hand shoots out to squeeze hers. "You'll get this guy. I know it. Have you gotten any more cryptic messages?" He asks, sipping his coffee. Christine shook her said, squeezing his hand in a silent thank you. "Not since he led us to those two girls."

Just about then the bell above the door rang and in walked Michael Vincent. He spotted Christine immediately and headed over. "Mikey?" She asked and the surprise in her voice had him knitting his brows together. "Don't sound so surprised. You're the one who texted me last night to meet you here." He raised a brow. She did? She reached for her phone, only to find out she left it in the car. "Well?" He asks. "Can I join you?" She looked from him to Frank and shot him an apologetic look. "Do you mind?" He shook his head. "Not at all," this had been his plan. "the more the merrier. Frank Miller." He introduced, extending a hand to the other as he sat next to Christine. "Michael Vincent Hodgins." He replied, shaking his hand. "Hodgins." Frank repeated. "Like your friend I met in your office?" Christine nodded, rolling her eyes playfully as Michael picked up her coffee and took a sip. "Kat is Mikey's little sister." Frank nodded along in understanding. The trio's conversation is paused briefly as a waitress comes by to take their order.

"So, Michael," Frank began, "do you work for the FBI as well?" Michael laughed gently, shaking his head. "No, no. I intern at the Jeffersonian with my father and her mother." Chris smiled proudly looking from him to Mike and then back. "He's working on two doctorates. One in forensic anthropology and one in entomology like Uncle Jack." Frank forced a slight smile, leaning back in his chair. "My brother Hank plans on doing that too and Kat is turning out just like Aunt Angela and then there's me," she sighs, "the FBI agent." Mike scoffed, letting his arm snake around the back of her chair. "Ah, don't let Stapes here fool you - she's quite the squint herself." He raised a brow, looking at the two across from him. "Stapes?" He asked and Christine rolled her eyes, blushing slightly. "It's just - a stupid little nickname from when I was little. My mom.. My dad calls her Bones and stapes is the smallest bone in the body. She's Bones and I'm… little bones so," She shrugs and Frank chuckled softly. "That's adorable."

The trio finish breakfast quietly, making conversation here and there before they make their ways to the cars. "It was nice meeting you, Michael." Frank offered his hand, shaking the other's gently. "You too." He smiles, nodding. "You know," he begins, pulling his other hand from his pocket and reaching out to pat the hood of the other's car. "this thing is a beauty, Mike." As he ran his hand along the hood, he dropped a tracking device into it. "Thanks," he murmured, nodding to the other two. "I'll see you at work, Chrissy." She nods. "See you." She hums, watching him get into the car and drive away. The couple stood there awkwardly a moment before Frank opened her door for her and motioned her in. "Thank you," She says softly, pausing just a moment. Leaning up, she presses her lips to his in a quick, soft kiss. He was taken back slightly, pulling her back in for one more. His hand finds her car just like it had Michael's, slipping the same kind of device on her. Pulling away, he laughs under his breath. "What was that for?" He asks, breathless. Christine just shrugged. "Because I'm not exactly sure when we'll get to make up that date and I'm very impatient it seems." She breathed.

The entirety of her drive back to the house, she couldn't wipe the smile off her face. It felt… good to feel good about something and like she had mentioned to Kat, this was the first time since Michael Vincent that Christine has actually felt like a relationship would be worth it. Up until now, she'd unknowingly developed her mother's old mentality of satisfying bodily urges. Her good mood didn't last too long though, because as soon as she crossed the threshold she was being interrogated.

"Where the hell have you been and why didn't you answer your phone?!" Booth cried, arms swinging rapidly as he didn't give his daughter as much as a minute to settle before tearing into her. "You know we were this close to sending a search team out? I mean what the hell were you thinking - running around with a mad man on the loose!" As soon as she could speak, she reached out to calm his flailing arms. "I went to the diner. For breakfast with Frank, the guy I was telling you about? The one who brought me flowers and stops by to check in on me every now and then?" Brennan was the one to speak up this time. "I'm not sure I like knowing you went out with someone who is basically a stranger while we're in the middle of something like this…" Christine scoffed, rolling her eyes. "If you must know… Mikey was there too. We - we ran into him. Happy? Besides, everyone who works there has basically known me from birth, I think I was pretty safe -" Booth interrupted. "Christine that is not the point!" She doesn't even give him time to finish. "Also! Everyone seems to have forgotten I'm a trained agent too! And I have three black belts in three different types of martial arts, so, if you'll excuse me I'm going to shower and get ready for work." She snatches her bag back up, heading for her room.

She was still irritated when she got to the office, she even snapped at two agents who were only trying to make sure she was alright all things considered. She'd been staring at the files on the girls for she doesn't even know how long now. Standing up, she crosses to the whiteboard and puts the victims on it in order of death. Kaitlin Lawrence, Abigail Renolds, Allison Taylor, Michelle Gavin. All four taken from colleges in DC and Virginia, all four showing signs of paranoia, all four tortured and left for dead only to be cleaned up, dressed up, and posed for the team to find. They found the first two girls last, led to them by a location sent via burner cell. They had been dressed the same as the others, sat at a small table with a tea set, Christine definitely remembers owning when she was younger - her initials still sharpied on the bottom, between them. Allison wore her initials on her chest and Michelle was delivered with a special note. Four girls that all seemed to bare a resemblance to her, herself without a connection between them.

That's when it hit her. There was no connection between them now but maybe there had been before. Maybe it never was about who they are now but who they were in the past. The parents had sent over any and everything they thought would help aid the investigation which included high school yearbooks. Flipping through them, Christine found just what she was looking for. Each girl was a cheerleader, a quote unquote it girl, a mean girl if you will. That was the connection: blonde, beautiful, and bitchy for a lack of better term. "I have to tell the team." She murmurs. Grabbing her phone, she shot a text to Angela, asking her to gather everyone. She gathered all the yearbooks and her notes, sticking them in her bag and slinging it over her shoulder before heading out for her car.

She never could have anticipated what happened next. She was on the phone with Angela, who had called to make sure she had understood her excited text message correctly. "Yes, Aunt Ange! I think I figured out the connection, we just weren't looking back far enough. It's not that these girls had anything in common like a name or person or place it was who they - " before she could finish her thought she was blindsided. First a pipe or something of the sort struck her over the head, causing her to drop her phone and bag. Now dizzy and disoriented, she stumbled, and an arm came out to wrap around her neck, raising a cloth to her face. The last thing Angela heard on her end was a scream and then silence. "Christine? Christine, who they what? Sweetie!? Oh no… oh… no."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: THIS CHAPTER IS A LITTLE VIOLENCE HEAVY. CONTINUE AT YOUR OWN RISK ! A/N: hey there! i still do not own bones, bummer. i also started a new job so updates may take just a tad bit longer. sorry to keep you waiting! xx

When Christine woke it was like every nightmare she'd had over the last couple weeks amplified by a hundred because this time she knew she wasn't dreaming. She wasn't confined to a chair, though, or not yet at least, her brain told her; she was in a room. A small room with a dirty, old mattress on the floor and one lightbulb swinging from the ceiling. She sat up slowly, her head pounding from whatever had been swung at her in correlation with whatever had been used to drug her. "Oh god.." she whimpered, reaching up to touch her forehead gently. After a moment she gathered enough strength to get up off the floor and examine her confines, the wall directly across from her was covered in photographs and newspaper clippings. She recognized them all instantly, photos of her and her family, newspaper articles about her parents and a few that even covered the Jeffersonian alone. "Who are you?" She asked no one in particular, she was alone after all. "And what do you want with me?"

Suddenly, the door began to creep open and Christine backed herself into a corner, hoping to get the jump on whoever was about to come through it, but unfortunately for her, her probable concussion and unsteady balance betrayed her and she fell victim to her masked assailant and yet another syringe once more. This time when she came to, she was tied to a chair, blurry eyes focused on the ceiling first trying to adjust to the brighter lights when a voice that made her blood run cold, rang out. "Frank?" she manages to croak out once her eyes focus on her now maskless captor. Of course it was. Of course the one person on that stupid app she let Kat sign her up for, the one person since high school she could actually see herself have a real relationship with turned out to be some psycho serial killer freak.

"Hey there, Stapes." He drawls, and the smile that turned up his lips looked positively evil as he continued, "I was beginning to wonder when you'd come back to me." She immediately began to struggle against her restraints, the rope leaving her bare arms red and raw. "This isn't happening.." She muttered, shaking her head and squeezing her eyes shut tight, maybe she was dreaming after all and this one just felt really, really real. Pushing off the wall, Frank was over to her in a mere two strides. One arm stills her movements and the other pushes a blade against her throat, causing her head to lull back and her eyes to open to meet his. "Oh, it's happening, sweetheart, and I am going to enjoy every second of it.."

Booth was on a warpath as he entered the lab, his wife and youngest son hot on his heels. "Did you find her? Was she okay? Please tell me I didn't hear what I think I heard." It was one frantic question after another from Angela, questions Booth ignored as he brushed past the artist and headed for her office; Christine's dropped items in hand. Brennan slowed her pace to walk in time with her best friend as they joined the others her voice wavering as she confirmed for Angela. "Now this guy has just severely pissed me off." Booth finally spoke, emptying Christine's bag onto Angela's desk. "Chris wanted to meet us here. She had information. It has to be in her notes." He began digging through the items. "She - she said she had figured out what connected the victims. That we hadn't looked back far enough." Angela supplied, helping the agent with dividing out her notes to the entire team.

After a moment, it was Hank who spoke up, standing from his seat to move towards the others. "Here. Chrissy had high school, cheerleader, and mean girl? Written and circled." He points, handing the book over to his mother. "The yearbooks." Brennan murmurs, nodding to them. "Each girl was your stereotypical 'popular' girl." She flips each book open to prove her point. "Obviously our killer was ostracized in high school. Probably by a girl just like they were, if not one of them specifically." Cam looked over her shoulder at the photos of the girls before an idea popped into her head. "We all know that each girl had a boyfriend, or someone they were talking to at least, someone who got close enough to them before kidnapping them. We know it couldn't have been four separate guys. It was just the same guy over and over with a different name." She was about to continue on when Booth interjected. "So, what, Camille? We look through every guy in their grades in the yearbooks? We don't even know what he looks like and I doubt he used his real name." He huffs. "Oh my god." Kat said softly, only getting louder as she lifted the book closer for confirmation. "Oh my god! It's him." She stuck the book out to her brother and pointed. "God… damn it. I should've - I should've known." Michael grits, shaking his head. "Will one of you please tell me what the hell is going on?!" Brennan exclaimed, hands on her hips: mommy mode had been activated. "The guy… the guy Chris was telling us about, the one Mikey and I saw… this is him." She turned the book towards everyone. "Christopher Jennings, or well, Frank Miller to us."

Booth jerked the book, albeit a bit too roughly from Kat and held it up to his and wife's faces. "You're sure about this?" He asks, glancing over at Kat who was already bringing a photo up to compare to it. "Absolutely, Uncle Seeley. Obviously he's older now, but.." She held her phone up next to the book. "...it's him." He slammed the book shut and let it hit the desk, giving Angela, who was already twelve steps ahead of him, and Kat the order to dig up whatever they could on this Christopher Jennings. Turning to the others, he continued. "Aubrey, you head back to the Hoover and see what you can get on our end. Cam, Hodgins, Mike, and Hank, I want you four to re-examine all the evidence again. You find anything new you call me." He made sure they understood before nodding and excusing them to their work. "Booth?" Brennan asked quietly. "Yeah, Bones?" He pinched the bridge of his nose and turned to his wife. "What do you want me to do?" She wanted nothing more than to be on the platform with the others, she was the best after all but it seemed as though he had other plans for her. "You're coming with me. We'll drive around a bit, check out Chrissy's car again. If we find nothing I'll bring you back and let you do your bone thing." She doesn't argue. She simply nods, grabs her things, and kisses her son on the cheek before the couple headed out once more.

"What do you want from me?" Christine asked bitterly, the cool steel against her skin biting in deeper on her flesh - he obviously didn't like her tone. "If this is because we were closing in on you, maybe you shouldn't have had Michelle delivered to me like a dozen roses on our first date." This prompted a growl from the other and before she could get another smart ass comment in, the back of his hand came in contact with her mouth. It was fine though, Chris didn't even flinch, simply spit the blood that pooled in her mouth at him and cocked her head. "That the best you got?" She asked, perhaps she was getting too cocky for someone who had been drugged twice and was now tied up with no way to defend herself, but there was no way Christine Booth was going down without a fight.

"You see?!" He asked, backing away from her. "This is the problem with girls like you." He spat, pointing the knife her way once more. "And what does that mean?" She raised a brow. "Girls like me." He scoffed, looking upwards. "Don't play dumb, Agent Booth, we both know you're smarter than that, but since you asked. Girls like you. Prom queen, valedictorian, girls who wouldn't give a guy like me a second glance in high school! Or worse would string me along and get my hopes up knowing you had big shot mister quarterback waiting on you."

It was Christine's turn to look confused. "Frank, or, whoever you are, you've got it all wrong. I mean, I was valedictorian, but I wasn't prom queen or a cheerleader or dating the football star and not that the other four girls you put through hell deserved it, but, I'm nothing like them. I played soccer, I was captain of the debate team, president of the science club.." He cut her off. "You don't get it do you? I mean, sure, after breakfast I was beginning to realize I had read you wrong, but in some ways you are like them. Your smart ass remarks and the way you kept making goo goo eyes at that guy gave you away." Her brows furrowed. "Mikey? Oh no, you've got it all wrong. We're just friends. Best friends." He stepped forward, pressing the blade to her thigh and moving it slowly across it - she knew he drew blood this time. "But you weren't always just best friends were you?" She doesn't answer, balling her hands into fists and setting her jaw to keep from giving him a reaction to the cut he was making. "Answer me!" He shouts, moving the blade to her neck again. "No," She murmured, willing her voice to stay strong. "We dated." Satisfied with her honesty, he backed away again.

They'd been at this for hours now. He'd say something and Christine would snap back and she'd earn a new cut or bruise and sometimes she'd get them for nothing at all but she took every single one like a champ, mentally reciting Kaitlin Lawrence, Abigail Reynolds, Allison Taylor, and Michelle Gavin's names each time she was given a new strike. She was staying strong for them. "You're a tough little bitch aren't you?" He asked, wiping the sweat from his brow and smearing her blood across it in the process. "You must've got a death wish."

"No," She said simply, swallowing a lump in her throat. "I just know my family will find me and when they do, my dad is gonna put a cap in your ass, or more accurately, between your eyes." Anger flashed in his eyes and his fist met her jaw before cupping her chin - the taste of metal filling her mouth once again. "And just what makes you believe Daddy Dearest will rescue his little girl?" She doesn't answer right away, no, first she lifts her tied ankles and gives one of his knees a hard kick which brings him down to eye level, then, the blood she'd been holding in her mouth is spat once more - directly in his face this time before she whispers, "Because… you can't mess with Booth women and get away with it."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: ahhhh this is the end! xo also still don't own 'em. ;)

The search of Christine's vehicle had turned out to be futile, the drive around DC was seeming to produce the same result and Booth's anger was apparent in the death grip his steering wheel was receiving. He could only hope the squints or Aubrey were doing better than they were. "We'll find her, Booth." Brennan spoke quietly, though, she wasn't entirely sure if she was saying it for her husband or for herself. "You know, I really wish I could have your positive mindset right now, but I'm honestly scared shitless." He admits, sparing a glance his wife's way. "Believe me… I am too." She cleared her throat, blinking back tears. "Becoming a mother has made me irrational in ways I never thought I could be, but, I have absolute faith in our daughter. She's hardwired like you." The compliment caused a small smile to cross Booth's lips, the first one since they'd realized Christine was missing, and he reached over to take her hand, squeezing gently.

Across the city, in an old, abandoned house Christine was attempting to stand her ground. With every punch, slap, and cut her nails dig further into her restricted palms. She refused to let this man see her cry. She refused to go down easily, though, the scientist in her was screaming that time was running out - her head pounded, she'd been drugged twice, and she'd lost a considerable amount of blood over the last few hours. She could tell he was getting tired as well, victims were no fun when they didn't scream. There was no satisfaction in slowly killing a person who gave no reaction and Christine was as stoic as they come. "Maybe I should've picked your little friend Mikey up instead. He's not really my style, but maybe then I could get more than a blank stare out of you." Frank sighed, using his knife to lift her chin.

"Leave him out of this." She muttered. "This is between me and you." He didn't bother with acknowledging her words, just continued talking, "Or maybe your mother… she truly is a beauty, that Temperance Brennan. I really do like her books, I meant that." Christine's jaw flexes, her teeth grinding against each other at the mention of her mother, the taste of iron still present. A playful glint took residence in Frank's eye and he smirked - he'd hit a nerve. "Ah.. I see. Mikey is on his own but your mother… or your father… or perhaps either of your brothers - that's how I get a rise out of you." He dragged the blunt side of his weapon across her chest, humming under his breath.

"You can do whatever you want to me." Her voice was the strongest it had been since she'd woken up here. "Just leave them alone. They haven't done anything." Behind her back, she realizes she's managed to loosen her ropes and was attempting to continue until she could get them off without him realizing. "And if you want me to scream… maybe you should try something that actually hurts." She knew the moment it had left her mouth that she'd finally pushed her luck too far because Frank, who had been walking away with his back towards her, giving her ample time to continue removing her restraints suddenly whipped around and charged forward. "You, bitch." He growled and this time his knife did more than just slice at her, it was plunged into her side just below her ribs and Christine let out a hiss, throwing her head back. "There we go… that hurt enough for you?" His answer came when she suddenly lifted her arms and gave him a shove, sending him backwards and against the table giving her enough time to get her feet free and grab the knife he'd dropped.

As Booth and Brennan made their way back to the lab, they were surprised to see Aubrey was heading in as well. "Aubrey! Aubrey!" Booth called, jogging to catch up with him. "You find something?" Regretfully, he shakes his head, holding the door open for the couple. "Nothing that will get us any closer to finding Chris, but Ange texted me 9-1-1 so I assume they found something?" Brennan nodded. "She texted us too. Hopefully it's good news." She sighs, anticipation buzzing between the three as the elevator doors closed to take them up.

The trio was immediately greeted by Hodgins as they entered the Medico-Legal lab, who was holding up a container of something or another. "Necrophila americana." he hums, smile plastered on his face. "I found it on Christine's bag. Little guy must've hitched a ride on her kidnapper's shoe." Booth rolled his eyes upwards, moving them towards Angela's office. "Hodgins. Spit it out." He nods, putting the insect on the edge of his wife's desk. "Right. Necrophila americana or the American Carrion Beetle feeds on decaying flesh, which I found in it's stomach content -" This time it was Brennan growing impatient. "Doctor Hodgins! The point?" He jumps slightly, raising his hands. "I'm getting there. Along with the flesh I found soil and wood. Not just any wood and soil…" Just before he could do his big finish the Angelatron beeped and all four's attention was drawn to it. "We found her." Hank murmured, letting out a strangled sob. "We found Chrissy!" He was at his father's side in a matter of seconds. "What are we waiting for? Let's go!" Angela nods, pressing a few buttons. "I've just sent the location to you and Aubrey, go. Bring her home."

"I've had it with you!" Frank shouts, a hand coming up to hold his head as he stands. Christine's entire body screamed, the trauma she'd endured showing itself as she stood and slowly inched towards him. "Enough with slow and steady. I'll just finish you here and now." Reaching behind him, he pulls out a gun, one that she recognized as her side piece. Looking down at her knife, she swallowed thickly hoping her body had enough fight left in her to keep her from going down, she'd brought a knife to a gun fight after all. They stood there, staring at each other, neither one brave enough to make the first move. Slowly, they danced around each other until their positions were swapped, his back to the exit and Christine's to the table and then, suddenly, there was movement above them. The sound of a door being rammed into and quick footsteps, they grew closer and closer until she was able to make out her father's muffled voice. Her eyes flew to the door as the footsteps grew louder and Frank, who knew his time was running out panicked and fired a single shot, hitting Christine just above her right hip. A gasp leaves her, the knife falling from her hand as it scrambles to apply pressure to her newest wound, landing with a gentle thud, not that she could hear it, her heart was pounding way too loud in her ears for her to hear anything but it.

Just as quickly as his shot rang out, the door flew open and another single gunshot filled the air - this one bringing Frank to his knees before he slumps over, his eyes wide and lifeless as he bled out on the concrete. Her eyes lifted from him to the team that was scrambling in. "Daddy." She breathes, a sob escaping her as she falls into his arms. "I knew you'd find me." Booth's gun hit the floor as soon as he was close enough to get his daughter in his arms. He soothes her for just a moment, smoothing her hair back before he scoops her up and heads for the steps, Aubrey in tow.

Brennan and Hank broke into a full sprint as Booth with Christine in his arms came through the front door. "Christine!" She cried, staying back as the EMTs took over and loaded her onto the stretcher. "Christine… sweetheart…" Any adrenaline that had kept the other going was gone now and the best she could offer her mother was a tired smile as she was carried towards an ambulance. "Hi, mom." She whispers, her hand searching for Brennan's. "Ma'am we need to get her to the hospital, now." The paramedic didn't want to break up the reunion but she was losing blood and would require surgery as soon as possible. "Bones, go with her. She shouldn't be alone. We'll meet you there." She didn't have to be told twice. She boarded the ambulance with her daughter and the professionals, never letting go of the other's hand.

As soon as they arrived, Brennan was peeled away from her child as she was rushed into the operating room and her time was spent pacing the waiting room until her husband and the rest of her family joined. "It's been a long time." Parker, who had been called while Hank and Booth raced to meet the girls, spoke up and stood to grab another cup of coffee. "Chrissy's strong, bub. She's gonna be fine." Hank murmured and Michael reached out to squeeze his shoulder.

Just about that time, the doors swung open and a doctor made her way out. "Mr. and Mrs. Booth?" Both Booth and Brennan jumped up, neither one bothering to correct her. "How is she?" Booth asked, wrapping his arm around his wife. "Stable." The doctor replied. "I expect she'll make a full recovery. She's still out, but I suppose you're itching to see her." A glance over the couple's shoulder showed her just how big of an audience this young lady had. "Though it may be best for just immediate family to visit right now." The others nodded and bid their goodbyes, promising to be there first thing in the morning to check in on her. After that, the four were led through the double doors and to Christine's room.

To their surprise, Christine was awake as they rounded the corner and she offered a slight smile and a weak thumbs up as her family entered, her eyes shining at seeing her older brother. "Bub… you didn't have to come. You should know by now that bullet holes come with the Booth name." She teased, laughing weakly. Smiles broke across all four faces, if she was cracking jokes she was fine. "Of course I had to. I would never hear the end of it from Dad and Bones if I didn't." He teased back, giving her foot a gentle squeeze. "Oh," Hank stepped forward and held out a piece of paper. "Kat and I made this for you. Well, Kat made it but it was my idea." She took the paper and read it before looking up with a confused look. "Baby's first serial killer?" She asked. "Yeah, you know like those stickers parents put on babies and then take their picture? Like... baby's first Christmas." This made her laugh which made her wince slightly. "I love it." She murmurs, turning it around with an expectant glance. "Well? What are you waiting for? Take my picture."


End file.
